We were due to meet some friends at 6pm last night, so of course at about 5.30pm, I had a severe flare-up of SPD - so disabling that I couldn't get out of bed (I was having a disco nap!) and had to be rolled out in a most unladylike manner by MrM who managed to keep a straight face.
Perhaps it was just sheer laziness, as once I was out and had come down the stairs on my hands and knees, I seemed to be ok, although it took us a frustrating 20 minutes to walk the short distance into town. After a very amusing evening out, I was woken up at about 1am by again, what felt like period pains, which rumbled on, patternless, until about 6am. I felt really excited and really good about myself (after losing confidence in myself and the birth a couple of days ago after being let down, and stressed by someone to whom I'd paid £200 - half of a month's maternity pay - specifically to keep me calm!) - in fact the sensations were much easier to cope with than MrM's polyphonic snoring.
"I am going to meet the little one today!" I thought! And on its due date too! But by the time MrM woke up at 7am, there was no sign of anything at all. Perhaps I'd dreamt the whole thing? Or perhaps it was my dinner?
It then started again at about 9am (brought on, I believe by the list of name suggestions that my Mum sent me - I shouldn't laugh too much or be surprised at these given the appalling names that she and my dad came up with for me) but has petered out once again - but not before poor MrM felt the need to rearrange the dining room to make me comfortable. I think I've cried wolf too many times about it now - MrM is not going to believe me when it actually happens.